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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699592">we skipped the scenic route</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadie_B/pseuds/Sadie_B'>Sadie_B</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Forced Marriage, No beta we die like Edmund, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:14:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadie_B/pseuds/Sadie_B</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In another life, Anthony forgets to lock the door to his study. As a result of this minor oversight, all Hell breaks loose. </p><p>aka. the AU where Kate and Anthony weren’t so lucky the first time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>298</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. tell her</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">It would seem, Gentle Reader, that the Viscountess Bridgerton’s exceptional talent for matchmaking has struck again. Far more exceptionally, the rare occurrence has arisen in which this Author must publish a correction. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">It had previously been reported in this publication that Lord Anthony Bridgerton has spent the last fortnight courting one Edwina Sheffield. Who, for those amongst this readership who have been living under a rock, is this season’s Incomparable. A fine match indeed, many would say. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">However, in what I assure you, Gentle Reader, is a once in a lifetime phenomenon, it would appear that this Author was incorrect. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">At least, that is what is what guests discovered at Lady Bridgerton’s annual musicale last night. Where it was announced by the Viscount himself that he and Miss Katharine Sheffield, the Incomparable’s elder sister, are to be wed in a fortnight’s time. In a thrilling turn of events, it has been revealed that their whirlwind romance has already culminated in a marriage proposal. A love-match indeed. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Or at least, that is what they say. Only time will tell. Rest assured, Gentle Reader, this Author shall be the first to know. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 27 APRIL 1814</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kate, dearest, are you in here?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Mary Sheffield had received the letter inviting them to Bridgerton House that evening, this is not how she had expected the night to go. She had expected beautiful music, fine dining, perhaps a bit of not-so-subtle matchmaking. Not inconspicuously wandering the halls of Bridgerton House trying to track down a daughter who had seemingly vanished into mid-air. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What was that girl thinking? Lady Bridgerton had been gracious enough to extend to them an invitation and Kate had to go and get lost in her house in return? Causing Mary to have to look behind every door she could find. She had definitely seen Kate leave in this directions, the girl had to be there somewhere. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Most of all, what Mary Sheffield had not expected when she opened the door at the end of the hall was to be met with the sight of her daughter locked in a heated embrace with one Anthony Bridgerton. The most eligible bachelor of the season. A viscount of high renown and good breeding. A man who currently had his hands firmly planted on her daughter’s - </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh Sweet Lord. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The three stood there in stunned silence for what felt like an age. Well, that’s not entirely true. Kate had at least had the good sense to push the Viscount off of her. Shoving him so forcefully that if had not been the chair behind him that allowed him to catch his balance, he surely would’ve fallen to the ground. It was too late, of course, the damage had already been done. There was no denying what the two of them had just been doing. What they might have been about to do if they had not been interrupted. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary was the first speak, her tone as cold as December morning. “Katharine. Wait outside.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the objections were already flowing out if Kate’s mouth. Desperate to explain the whole ugliness away. “Mary, this isn’t what you think.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But her protests fell on death ears. “Outside. <em>Now</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For the first time since Anthony had met her, Kate made no retort. Instead, she simply nodded curtly, clearly unable to bring herself to look her step-mother in the eye. Never would he have pegged Kate as the type to yield so easily. The wind knocked out of her, she slowly made her way to the door. If he hadn’t been watching her as she went, he surely would’ve missed it when she glanced over her shoulder to look at him. With an expression on her face that he couldn’t quite name. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And, just like that, she was gone, the door firmly closed behind her. Leaving him to face her step-mother’s wrath alone. “Mrs Sheffield, I-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How dare you!” To say that she was angry would be an understatement. In that moment Mary Sheffield was the very personification of a woman scorned. If he didn’t know any better, Anthony would have thought that she was about to punch him in the face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If were a man-“ She paused. As enraged as she was, that still didn’t mean that she had to stoop down to the use of profanity. “You are fortunate that my husband is not alive to see this. He surely would have struck you down where you stood.” He did not doubt. If his wife and daughter’s fury were any indication, the late Miles Sheffield must have been a formidable man indeed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary stopped, forcing herself to inhale and to think rationally. Yelling and chastising would get them nowhere. And, if she was going to salvage Kate’s dignity, what she needed was the truth. “Exactly what liberties have you taken with my daughter?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anthony just stared at her dumbly, stunned by her how brazenly she had asked him that. Never before had he seen a mother speak so plainly on a matter such as this. How in the hell was he supposed to answer the question with her looking at him?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His stunned silence was clearly not the response Mary had been looking for, prompting her to ask again. “Have you forgotten how to speak? I asked you a question, boy.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He cleared his throat, his wits finally coming back to him. “Your daughter’s virtue remains intact, if that is what you are alluding to.” Goodness, Kate had been right, it was impossible to look this woman in the eye. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, thank goodness for that.” At the very least, there was no chance that Kate could be with child. One less thing to worry about. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A beat passed before she waved at him with a matter of fact air about her. “Obviously, the two of you will have to marry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I beg your pardon?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary frowned, clearly confused. For some reason he thought the matter was to be discussed further. “This is not up for debate. You will marry her and that is final.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was beginning to dawn on Mary that she was going to spell it out for him. And here she thought she was speaking to an Oxford Man. He surely must have understood the gravity of this situation. He was the head of his own household, after all. And yet, she clearly was going to have to do this the hard way. “Or, we can call your mother up here and ask her what she thinks.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That seemed to grab his attention, so she continued. “If you agree now, then we can spare her the pain of knowing of the ugliness that transpired here. Neither of us wish to see her opinion of you diminished.” Her tone softened. She spoke with a gentleness that he might have used when speaking to Hyacinth. Except, in this scenario, he was the child. “If she were here, you know that she would tell you the exact same thing. The two of you must marry.” She was right of course. The Sheffield women clearly had a propensity for it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course his mother would take the same view. Any sane and rational person would. But no sane or rational person would haveallowed themselves to end up in this mess to start with. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What had he been thinking? Kissing her like that? He must be going mad, surely, that is the only logical explanation. Yes, that was it, he was mental. Driven insane by the heat of the moment, the romantic hues of candlelight, the maddening scent of soap and lilies. There was no other way. “What of Kate? She’ll never agree to the match.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His concern for Kate’s wellbeing seemed to surprise her step-mother. After-all, it’s not like the girl had any actual say in the matter. Most men wouldn’t give the bride-to-be’s opinion a second thought. Admittedly, it wasn’t too long ago that Anthony had the exact same mindset. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that was before Daphne’s season. The thought still made him cringe. He had been so certain then, so self-assured. So confident was he in his judge of character that he had almost let his sister marry that brute Berbrooke. Even when she had made her objection to the match abundantly clear. If it hadn’t been for Simon...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That day Anthony swore that never again would he assume to know better than his sisters when it came to their future. Especially their groom. He would not make the same mistake twice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kate is a wise girl. Eventually she will see sense.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary’s words may have been true, but that did not make the idea any more palatable. Because why should Kate be any different? If he was willing to hold his sisters’ opinions with such high regard, then shouldn’t he afford Kate the same courtesy? Did the girl not deserve that? “I am sorry, Mrs Sheffield, but that is not enough for me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even if he could not allow himself to marry Kate, he could still protect her reputation. He could still offer his reassurance. “You have my word as a gentleman, the events that have transpired here shall never leave this room. I will take it to my grave.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shaking her head, Mary crossed her arms across her chest. “That is not enough for me and you know it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knew what she meant by that, of course. But still, he feigned ignorance. “If you are worried about the financial implications-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary wouldn’t even entertain the idea. “All the money in the world will not be able to buy back my girls’ reputation should word get out. Even if it could, my integrity is not for sale.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">At least she was a woman of principle. Anthony had to give her that. Still, mere principles would not be enough to rectify matters. </span>“Well then it would seem we are at an impasse.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Obviously, Mary did not agree. In her eyes, the discussion was far from over. “The last I remember, you have three sisters who are unwed, do you not?” She didn’t need to say more than that, Anthony already knew what she was alluding to. It was all too clear. “I hate to think what would happen to their prospects if word should get out what has transpired here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His demeanour stiffened, straightening his spine as he stood at his full height. “You wouldn’t dare.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wouldn’t I?” She chuffed. “Rest assured, if my daughter is to fall, then I shall drag each and every one of you Bridgertons down with her.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To threaten him was one thing. But his family? That was where Anthony Bridgerton drew the line. “Need I remind you who our family is? Or of our social standing? We can weather any storm thrown our way much better than you.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Most people would have buckled under the pressure by now and bowed down to his authority. But the Sheffields were not most people. Mary would not flinch. “Perhaps, but after the near-miss with Marina Thompson last year, is that truly a risk that your sisters can afford to take?”Far from it, she held her ground, looking him straight in the eye as she spoke. “You are a Bridgerton. Your name is everything. You have everything.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was no intimidating Mary Sheffield, not with so much at stake. That as much was clear. “But that is the fundamental difference between between my family and your’s; we have nothing left to lose.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What was the saying? The bigger the tree, the harder she falls. It had taken his family decades to build their reputation and here he was about to see it destroyed. All because he had his mind set on some ill-sighted flirtation. “You should know that I do not take kindly to threats, Mrs Sheffield.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nor do I take kindly to the man who would leave my oldest daughter ruined.” She stepped forward, every bit imposing despite her small stature. Soon enough she had closed the gap between them, till they were standing eye to eye. “Make no mistake, she is my daughter, sir. In every sense of the word. I could not love that girl more if I had birthed her myself.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Were it any other person, Anthony would have thought that she were doing this for money, for power. That Kate was just a means to an end to gain access to their family. The scheming mamas of the ton had their reputations for a reason. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But not Mary. No, definitely not. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was doing this for love. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So believe me when I tell you that there is nothing I would not do to protect her.” He didn’t doubt that. Not for a moment. “And if that includes burning you to the ground, then so be it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was strange. Impossible, given the fact they weren’t blood. But in that moment, with that burning gaze, Mary looked exactly like her eldest daughter. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what will it be?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate had no idea how long she had been waiting in that hallway for. Nor how long she had been pacing back and forth, eyes constantly flitting back to the door. She barely had idea how she ended up there in the first place. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had kissed her. Anthony Bridgerton had kissed her. But what was more vexing was the fact that she had let him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Obviously she wouldn’t have let the kiss go any further than that. Kate wasn’t an idiot, she knew that he held no true feelings for her, no underlying affection. The rake clearly had wanted to get a rise out of her. Why else wouldn’t he have left the study second he realised that they were in there unchaperoned? He had chosen not to leave. He had chosen to stop to her from doing so. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was going to put a stop to it. Eventually. In spite of his ghastly personality and sordid past, the man was still handsome. Even more so up close. Kate had eyes. Was it wrong to admit that she had been the tiniest bit curious? To want to know what is like? Surely there were worse kissers in London. If she was only going to have the one kiss in her life, at least it would be from someone who knew what they were doing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But all reason had gone out the window once the idiot had actually done it. All she had wanted was a peck, a taste of what it was like. Just for her own edification. Yet, in the heat of the moment, the wave of feelings took over her. Overwhelmed by something she had never felt before. A morbid curiosity of sorts. Some deep stab of something. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sharp clicking of the door opening called Kate back to reality. Mary walked into the hallway first, the Viscount not long behind her. “Well?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary cast a cursory glance back at Anthony before answering, half-expecting an objection of some sort. But, as she had hoped, he simply nodded. “It is settled.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She wanted to sigh from relief. Thank God for Mary, she always knew what to do. Soon they could just forget this whole ordeal ever- “You and Lord Bridgerton are to be married in a fortnight. We will go downstairs to announce it now.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wait, what?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate nearly laughed, so baffled by the words that just left Mary’s mouth. The very idea seeming ludicrous to her. “You cannot be serious.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But, unfortunately, she was. “Deadly.” Mary made no attempt to hide her disapproving tone. She didn’t care how old they were. If the two of them were going to act like children, then she would chastise them like children. “You two are fortunate that it was only I who stumbled upon you. God knows what could have happened if someone else had.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exactly, nobody knows but us.” The gravitas of Mary’s announcement seemed to have finally dawned on Kate. And it was clear that she was not going to roll over and accept it, not until every other avenue had been explored. “Each of us stands to suffer should the news come out. All the more guarantee that it never will.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary sighed, the stress of the ordeal having begun to take its toll on her. “People talk, my darling. We cannot know who else noticed your absence or was walking the halls.” For all they knew, someone had already rushed downstairs to tell all of the guests. While there was still even a chance that someone else had seen them, Mary could not take that risk. Not when her daughters’ futures were at stake. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But what of Edwina?” Kate was scrambling now. Grasping desperately for any argument or rationale, no matter how trivial, to avoid the inevitable. “Whistledown has already published details of their courtship. People are bound to speculate.” It was a flimsy argument, she knew that. But she was willing to try anything, if it would prevent their marriage. That she made quite clear. Under different circumstances, Anthony would’ve appreciated the brutal honesty. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whistledown is not omnipotent. If asked, we will simply say that she was mistaken as to which Miss Sheffield the Viscount was courting. It shall be our word against hers.” Mary made a fair point, Anthony realised. By tweaking just a few minor details, it would be easy for an outsider to believe that he and Kate had been the ones who were courting all along. The dance are at the ball, the flowers to her house, their walk in Hyde Park, to name a few. It would be easy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But this meant nothing to Kate, who was now on the verge of tears. Somehow Anthony knew that this was a rare sight indeed. She was the Indomitable Kate Sheffield. The brave and bullish bane of his existence. She wasn’t meant to cry. Certainly not over him. “You cannot force me to do this.” The words were more for herself than anyone else. “I can’t. I won’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary’s steely expression softened, no longer able to keep up the stern matronly glare. This was her daughter. In many ways, her first love. Mary would never knowingly do anything that could cause her unhappiness. But, as much as it pained her to do it, she had to do right by her girl. Even if Kate would hate her for it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Katharine, think of your sister. Of yourself. I promised your father that I would protect your girls and that is exactly what I am doing.” Reaching out to cup her face, Mary wiped away a stray tear that rolled down Kate’s cheek. Until now, she could have counted the number of times she had seen her daughter cry on one hand. </span>
  <span class="s1">“This is the only way.” It wasn’t clear who Mary was trying to convince more; her daughter or herself. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finally, Kate’s eyes fell on Anthony. It was the first time since this whole debate began that she had actually deemed to look at him. Perhaps she hoped, that by refusing to acknowledge his presence, it would allow them to prolong the inevitable. “Why aren’t you saying something?” She asked suddenly. Her voice grew even more frantic as she gestured to Mary. “Tell her we don’t have to do this.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For the rest of his life, Anthony would never forget the look on her face when she asked him that. The tears streaming down her face. The desperate plea in her eyes. How utterly crushed she was. She looked so young. So heartbroken. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In that moment he would’ve done just about anything if he thought it would’ve have given her the slightest bit of comfort. However, doing that would mean acknowledging the troubling sensation that once more bloomed in his chest. That sharp stab of something. The spark of a feeling that he dare not name. He didn’t want to the think about how the very thought of Kate Sheffield in tears broke his heart. Most of all, he paid no mind to the tiniest, most forbidden part of him that was thrilled by the turn of the events. Nor the louder part of him that hated himself for it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He couldn’t tell her any of this, of course. </span>Not that Kate would be able to understand it even if he did. How could she? They were strangers to one another. So, naturally, Kate did the only thing she could; she pleaded with him once more.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Tell her</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It would be the only time in their relationship that Anthony would see her beg. Somehow, he already knew that. And, yet, he said nothing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Better she hear that than the truth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were married on a Saturday. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate doesn’t remember much of it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From the moment they arrived downstairs and announced the news to a stunned crowd of guests, their entire engagement passed by in a haze. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Perhaps, it made the pretending all the more easier. As she smiled and nodded while Anthony recounted the fanciful details of their courtship. It wasn’t lying, Mary consoled, they were just omitting certain truths. What was true for them did not have to be what was true for everyone else. That’s what Kate told herself as Lady Bridgerton wrapped her in a warm embrace, as all the ton showered her in well wishes and back-handed compliments, and as she greeted each and every one their guests at the engagement ball held in Bridgerton House. Blushing, beguiling and bowing her head all the while, she was every bit the dutiful bride to be that she was expected to be. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To the outside world, they were the ideal couple. Young and besotted with one another, eager to begin their lives together. An honest to goodness love-match. The kind of story one only read about in novels. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A shame that none of it was real. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">None of it even felt real. The whole ceremony passed by as if it was all happening to someone else. The exchanging of the rings. The mumbling of the words “I do”. The chaste kiss as the vicar announced them man and wife. Neither one of them even capable of looking the other in the eye. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just like that, her fate was sealed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In an instant, Kate Sheffield was dead and buried. In her place stood Lady Katherine Bridgerton, Viscountess. The second choice. Forever bound to a man who would never truly want her. Doomed to remained shackled together in a loveless marriage until death did them part. And they both knew it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All because her husband couldn’t double check a fucking lock. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. something blue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: panic attack</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Gossip still surrounds the finer details of the hasty marriage of Lord and Lady Bridgerton (formerly Miss Katharine Sheffield, for those of you who somehow have not been paying attention). </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>The happy couple were married yesterday in an intimate ceremony at St. George’s Church. “Intimate” otherwise meaning that this Author was not deemed worthy of an invitation. As such, the exact happenings remain unknown at this time. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">However, rest assured, Gentle Reader that This Author shall leave no stone unturned. Sooner or later, every last detail the wedding of the season shall come to light. Whether the Viscount and his new Viscountess wish them to or not. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 10 APRIL 1814</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To her credit, the woman formerly known as Kate Sheffield did make for a beautiful bride. Anthony had to give her that. What she wasn’t, however, was a talkative one. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Besides her soft murmur of the words “I do” during their vows only an hour before, Anthony did not think he had heard her speak all morning. Even now, the two of them sat in silence as the carriage approached Bridgerton House. His new bride gazing stoically out the window, hands tightly gripped on the bouquet of roses that sat on her lap. Sitting so close and yet it was if she were oceans away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had tried, of course, to come calling on her before the wedding. Multiple times, in fact. He had sent her flowers, calling cards, he had even tried to present her with an engagement ring. But every time he arrived on the Sheffield’s doorstep, Anthony had been turned away. Always with some excuse or other. “She is at the modiste” or “Miss Sheffield is feeling under the weather”. As flimsy as her excuses were, at least they got the point across. Kate clearly had no interest in speaking unless they were under strict and constant supervision. And, apparently, not even then. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Honestly, the longest bit of conversation he had managed to extract from her was when she had asked him if he thought that it might rain. He remembered it so vividly because it was the only thing she said to him during their obligatory waltz at their engagement ball. And even that exchange had ended as abruptly as it had began. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good thing that the rain cleared up for today. With the way it was pouring, I feared that we would all end up soaked to the bone before we even crossed the threshold.” God, married for less than twenty four hours and he had already resorted to talking about the weather. That could not be a good sign. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate only hummed in agreement, her eyes flitting upwards to examine the now white clouds. Her attention obviously concerned with much more pressing matters. Like nimbus formations, for a start. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nevertheless, he carried on. He was going to get a conversation out of her even if it killed him. Or her. Or both. “Still, it was a lovely service, was it not?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This time she made even less noise, opting to give him the slightest of shrugs. Oh, son of a- “You know that you cannot keep ignoring me forever.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Admittedly, he was trying to provoke her. Anything to get her to speak. Even if it was just to scold him. At least that would mean acknowledging the magnitude of the situation. Of the gold band that sat on her finger. Or what awaited them that night. But it was to no avail, she would not yield. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For what wasn’t the first time, Anthony longed for the girl he had met that April evening. The girl who left him dripping wet in the Serpentine. The girl who stole away into his study. Never afraid to speak freely. Or to challenge him at every turn. To be loud and bold and unabashed. The bane of his existence. His worthy adversary. The girl who fought. The girl who tried. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Where was that Kate? He understood that Kate.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not this stranger sitting before him. The fight knocked out of her. Ever retreating further and further away into herself. This trepidatious little thing. So crestfallen. It nearly broke his heart. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you please say something?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yell. Scream. Call him every name under the sun. Anything would be better than the deafening silence. Than her just sitting there meekly, saying nothing. Her gaze blank as if she were looking right through him. Her expression impossible to read. Just looking at him with those eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Those sad eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t bear it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anthony hadn’t expected a response. And for the longest time it didn’t seem like he would get one. But then, without looking up from the window, she finally spoke. Her voice barely a whisper, but he heard her all the same. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have some rice in your hair.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anthony sighed as he plucked the offending grain from his chestnut coloured head. Sure enough, she had been right. It had probably been there since they had left the church. She probably had noticed it the movement they set foot in the carriage. And she probably would not have said a word if he hadn’t pressed her so. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was going to be a long day.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As one might expect, the wedding breakfast was held at Bridgerton House. Only a select few would be in attendance. The extended Bridgerton clan. Some relatives from Somerset who had been able to come on such short notice. Close friends of the family. And Portia Featherington, for some inexplicable reason.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His mother was the first to greet as they disembarked. She beamed. “There’s the happy couple!” If only she knew, he though to himself. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mary had been right. It was better for her to not know the true events behind the engagement. What good would come from telling her? Especially when the alternative was much more appealing. Her eldest son was finally, and happily, married. It was everything that she had ever wanted. He wasn’t going to be the one to take that happiness away from her. Not when he had the choice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At his side, Kate smiled and gave a dutiful bow, the picture of poise and serenity. If he didn’t know any better, he might of thought it sincere. “Lady Bridgerton, I must thank you once again for all your help in the preparations. It means so much to us.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh, so she could speak? Just not to him it would seem. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That wasn’t entirely fair. As much as Kate hated him, she had yet to take any of her anger out on his family. She was better than that. Or, at the very least, he hoped that she was. That was the difficulty with marrying a stranger, you see. No way of knowing what you were going to get. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Violet only allowed herself to bask in the compliment for a moment before waving it off. “Nonsense, my dear, we are family now after all.” She reached forward to grab Kate’s hand and pull them towards her. “Which is why I simply must insist that you call me Violet.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate made no protest. It seemed like the only person she would not oblige was him. “Of course, how silly of me. Thank you, Violet.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That seemed to please his mother, as her smile widened even more. He had always known that she was keen to see all her children married, but Anthony had never expected it to make her quite so giddy. She gave them a knowing look. “Besides, I think you’ll find that you are the one that we should be calling Lady Bridgerton.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was when he saw it, the slightest stiffening of her posture. The tiny gulp in her throat. Most people probably would not have noticed it. But when it came to Kate Sheffield, he couldn’t not notice her even if he tried. And God knows that he had tried. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regaining her composure as quickly as she had lost it, she curtsied to them both, not yet understanding that there was no longer a need to. It was her house now too. “Will you excuse me for a moment? I need to visit the powder room.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Part of him knew that he should join her. And not just because he was obligated to. He wanted to. “Do you want me to-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But she did not stay long enough for him to finish, already turning and rushing out the door in a blur of white lace. He turned to face his mother, who still did not understand what she had just witnessed. Time to bring some levity to the situation. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Brides? Am I right?” He shrugged. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nailed it.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was all too much. The music too loud. The chandeliers too bright. Somehow feeling far too close and yet a million miles away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate barely registered where she was, eyes already clouded by tears. Some unoccupied hallway. One of many, it would seem. Thankfully, the guests had congregated in the dining room. No-one would ever know. Not that she would have been able to notice if she wasn’t alone anyway. She had far more pressing concerns. Like the fact she was possibly dying. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She couldn’t breathe. With every gasp of air, it only became harder and harder. It was if there was a vice wrapped around her chest, crushing her under its tight grip. Suffocating the life out of her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had been that way for some time now. From the moment he and her mother had emerged from his office. It was always there, lying in wait. That ache in her chest. The lump in her throat. Sometimes she could ignore it. Most of the time, it took everything in her power to keep it at bay. It made no sense for her mother-in-law’s passing comment to be what tipped her over the edge. Yet it had. And now it was if the floor had come out from underneath her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate had felt terror before. Ever since she could remember. Each dark cloud. Every clap of thunder. Last night’s storm sprang to mind. Lying there paralysed in her bed, unable to make a sound. Shaken to her very core. Yes, it was fair to say that she knew what fear felt like. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But this? This was something else entirely. Something new. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This wasn’t terror. This was dread. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Was this how her mother had felt, she wondered. Her father?Did they know thiscrushing hopelessness in those final moments? Struggling for air as every nerve in their body was set ablaze?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Was this what dying felt like?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kate? Is that you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Edwina’s voice cut through the haze, snapping her back to reality. Grounding her. Loosening the vice ever so slightly. But it was still there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate wondered if it would always be there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Somehow, air came back to her. Breathing steadily became less of an insurmountable task. Kate found herself calling back. “Yes. It’s me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She could she hear Edwina’s soft footsteps grow closer. Her sister could only have been standing a few feet behind her. “Is everything alright? You left in a hurry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate didn’t dare to turn around. Not yet. Not until she had it under control. “Yes, everything is fine. I just needed some air.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re upset.” It wasn’t a question. She was stating a fact. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Surreptitiously wiping tears from her eyes and swallowing the lump in her throat, Kate forced herself to smile. “No, I’m not.” She lied, somewhat convincingly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Edwina was having none of it. Dammit,her sister was as perceptive as she was pretty. “Kate, I’m your sister. I think I can tell when you’ve been crying.” Grabbing her by the shoulders, she forced Kate to turn and meet her gaze. “What’s happened?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something about those words almost made her start crying all over again. To fall into her arms and weep. But she knew that she couldn’t. “It is nothing, I just-“ She paused, blinking back tears. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A part of Kate wanted to tell Edwina everything. Truly. But what would be the point? It is not like it would change anything even if she did. All it would do was worry her. There was no point in them both being miserable, not when it was just as easy to let her sister live in ignorant bliss. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So she told her a half-truth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just really wish Papa was here, is all.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Edwina’s whole demeanour changed at those words, just as Kate had known it would. Her shoulders slackened. Her eyes softened. Her lips curling up into an understanding smile. She knew better than anyone what that felt like. Pulling her into a tight embrace, she rested her chin on Kate’s shoulder so that her mouth was pressed against her ear. “Me too.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Goodness, Edwina did always give the best hugs. “But he wouldn’t want us to be sad. Especially not today.” And the best words of encouragement. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finally, she pulled back far enough to exclaim “Because this is a happy day!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Trying her best to play along, Kate gave a half-hearted nod. It was one thing to lie to a room full of strangers. It was another thing entirely to lie to her favourite person. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Maybe some part of Edwina already knew that. Maybe she wasn’t entirely convinced. </span>Maybe that’s what prompted her to ask one more time. “Kate, if something was wrong, you know that you could tell me, don’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course I do.” Forcing herself to steady her breathing, she just smiled and shook her head. “It has just been a very hectic two weeks. I think the reality of the situation has finally dawned on me is it all.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And just like that, the mask was on again. She would be calm, she would be demure. Every bit the dutiful wife. She had to play along with the role assigned to her. It was the only way she would survive. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God, it is true what they say, isn’t it? There’s always someone who cries at a wedding.” She laughed, hoping to bring some levity and distract from her little display of hysteria. “I am just surprised it wasn’t you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Edwina chuckled, shaking her head in disapproval. Yet there was a hint of a grin at the corner of her mouth. Before Kate knew it, she was being pulled into yet another embrace. “Who would’ve thought? Me ending up married before you?” She mused. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Edwina didn’t hesitate to respond. “I would have.” She told her gently, her grip tightening ever so slightly as she spoke. “I always did.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even after all these years, her sister’s unshakeable faith always managed to take Kate by surprise. However ill placed it might have been. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Swallowing the lump in her throat, Kate pulled way from the hug. The more time they spent alone together, the weaker her resolve would become. She couldn’t tell Edwina the truth. Not ever. At least one of them should get to believe in the lie. “Come on, I imagine it cannot be good form for the bride to disappear from her own reception.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Edwina raised an incredulous brow. “Just how many weddings do you plan on having?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate just rolled her eyes. “I haven’t decided.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Head tilted back in laughter, Edwina began to make her way down the hall. “Well, when you do, I want to be the first to know.” She cast a look back over her shoulder and winked. “We’re sisters; we have to tell each other everything.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Watching her as she went, Kate just gave a defeated sigh. How she wished that that was true. “Always.”<br/><br/></span>
</p><hr/><p class="p2"><br/>It was not hard to rejoin the guests. The room was so packed, they barely had noticed her absence. Ironic, it was her wedding day and she was still an afterthought.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe ironic wasn’t the right word. Fitting? Yes, fitting. That was more like it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is everything alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course<em> he</em> had taken note of her disappearance. Her attentive husband. Suddenly so interested in her well-being. Now that he had to be. Just because they had to keep up the charade for the rest of the world didn’t mean they had to when it was just the two of them. The least they could do was be honest with each other, even if they couldn’t with anyone else. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why couldn’t he accept that all she wanted was to be left alone? Things would be easier that way. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s nothing.” She muttered, wanting to put the ugliness behind her. If they didn’t talk about it then she didn’t have to think about it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the stubborn bastard wouldn’t let it go. “Are you sure? Your eyes are red.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I said I’m fine!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even she flinched at the harshness of her tone. Not that she would apologise. It had finally got him to listen. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yet, deep down, Kate knew that she should have apologised for snapping. For all of this. But that would mean looking at him. Coming face to face with reality. Being unable to ignore that crushing weight on her chest. She did not dare to dwell on such a thought. It hurt too much. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So, instead, she just kept walking. As she left, she uttered the words that every man wants to hear from his new bride on their wedding day. “Let’s just get this over with.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And just like that, Anthony was left alone, again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Funny, he had always said that he wanted a wife who did not love him. It was easier that way, he had told himself. And his opinion on the matter still had not changed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">However, when he had said that, he hadn’t meant that he wanted a woman who could barely tolerate his presence. He had been thinking more along the lines of a bride that he could get along with. A bride who</span>
  <span class="s1">, dare he say it, did not completely hate his guts. Many couples did not marry for love, he knew that. More often than not, love played no part in the decision at all. Not to say that it never happened, look no further than his parents. However, they were the exception and not the rule. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that didn’t mean that spouses couldn’t share a mutual respect, a friendship even. At the very least, he had hoped to spend his remaining years on this earth with a wife who actually liked him. Instead of a bride who wouldn’t even speak with him half the time. Maybe he’d get lucky and she end up poisoning his wine. Or pushing him down a flight of stairs? Or perhaps even smothering him in his sleep? Either would be more pleasant. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had wanted a wife who didn’t love him. That was exactly what he had gotten. He just wished he had realised what that meant before he had got married. He might have reconsidered. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Suppose he should have been more careful what he wished for. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. the matter at hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: mentions of sexual assault <br/>(Don’t worry, it never actually happens and I don’t intend on writing about that sort of thing anytime soon)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neither of them spoke a word in the carriage ride to his lodgings. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were intelligent adults. They knew how weddings worked. First you had the ceremony. Then there was the breakfast. And, finally, the wedding night. They both were well aware of what was about to happen.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anthony would be lying if he said that he had not thought about it. Or dreamt about it. Because he most definitely had. In vivid details. He was only human after all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was well past the point of him trying (and failing) to deny the attraction. And, judging by her reciprocations in his study, it was not entirely one-sided. Theirs would never be a marriage of love, he knew that,but at least there could be passion. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could work with that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Naturally, he was going to have to be the one to take the lead. As the more experienced of the two, it only made sense for the responsibility to rest on him. Perhaps it settled her nerves that at least one of them knew what they were doing?Of course, her mother no doubt will have sat her down and explained the fundamentals to her the night before. Mary Sheffield struck him as the type who would ensure that her daughters were well and truly prepared for the wedding night. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No, consummating the marriage wouldn’t be the hard part. What they did leading up to that would be the hard part. Something told him that seducing his wife wouldn’t be as easy as it was with his usual dalliances.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wondered if he should have carried her her over the threshold. That was something that newly-weds did, wasn’t it? However, he immediately thought against the idea. Kate did not seem like she was in the mood for such a gesture. Perhaps another time. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The staff were waiting to greet them in the hall upon their arrival. His bachelor lodging were not large compared to the ton’s standards. Given how little time he actually spent there, he had never felt the need for anything larger. Yet the introductions to his house staff took a good thirty four minutes (yes, he checked). She took great care in greeting each member of staff individually, not moving along until she knew their name and role by heart. His bride was clearly keen to be every bit the good and gracious mistress of the house that she was expected to be. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that she was stalling. Good thing he was pretending not to notice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finally, after what felt like an age (but what was in fact only thirty four minutes and twelve seconds), they began to make their way upstairs. Nothing was said as he silently ushered her to his bedroom door. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had never had a lady in his chambers before. Except for Annie the chambermaid, obviously. And his mother when he had first moved in. Oh, and sometimes Hyacinth when she came to visit him. If one wanted to be totally accurate, he would say that he had never </span>
  <span class="s2">entertained</span>
  <span class="s1"> a lady in his room. Or even in his home, for that matter. Kate would be the first to lay eyes on those four burgundy walls. And the last. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite what the members of the ton may have you believe, Anthony Bridgerton had no interest in finding himself a ladybird. Sure, he had made jokes about it as a bachelor, but he never planned on going through with such an idea. Of course, he would talk the talk, make light with the other husbands, but he could never bring himself to actually do it. He would only lie with one woman under his roof, he was sure of it. He would not stray. Just as his father had done before him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And even if he were to do such a thing, which again, he wouldn’t, he would not conduct such liaisons in the bed which they now shared. The least a wandering husband can do is not flaunt his infidelitiesin his wife’s face. An adulterer should have at least some decency. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">However, this is all still a hypothetical. Because, under no circumstances, would he be taking a mistress. Because he was not an ass. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had wanted to tell Kate all of this before the wedding. Offer her some reassurance. Perhaps even settle her nerves. And he would have, if she could have just bloody let him. Honestly, the woman truly did manage to frustrate him to no end, in </span>
  <span class="s2">every</span>
  <span class="s1"> sense of the word. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Besides, he probably couldn’t take a mistress even if he wanted to. Common decency aside, there was no need to seek comfort elsewhere. If their first kiss in was anything to go by, he would likely never feel the urge to lie with a woman that wasn’t her ever again. Once you have had the best, it’s rather hard to go back to the way things were. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he was skipping ahead of himself. He hadn’t even offered her a drink yet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In hindsight, port was probably not the best choice of wine for a night such as this one. A nice ratafia would have been much more suited to lady’s palette. However, seeing that she was the first woman he had ever entertained in his residence, the thought to stock a wine with more of a feminine quality had never struck him. Until now, that is. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Kate did not seem to mind, taking the glass from him with no complaints. Granted that could have just been because she did not have the frame of reference to know any better. A girl her age could probably count how many varieties of wines she had drunk in her life on one hand. Probably best not to dwell on that thought, he decided.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite her inexperience, she had no issue with downing the glass in one swig and placing it back down on the mahogany side table. Hoping to quiet her nerves, no doubts. Maybe he should have offered her a whiskey. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am glad to see you like it.” He commented, trying to do anything to get a conversation started. Experience told him that it would be much smoother once the banter started flowing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate clearly didn’t get the memo, still resigning herself to short, clipped answers. “Yes, thank you.” God, she would be the death of him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nevertheless, he persisted. “I will be sure to make a note of it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She quickly bowed her head. “My lord is too kind.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There it was again. “My lord.” Married for nearly twelve hours now and she had yet to call him by his name. He couldn’t explain why it infuriated him so. Technically speaking, she was only trying to be proper. It was not like she was actually insulting him, however it might have otherwise felt. Perhaps it made sense in the company of others, but behind closed doors? In the privacy of their own home? It just didn’t sit right with him. “You can call me Anthony, you know. We are married after all.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe he had simply hoped that she would want to. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead, she just nodded politely again. “If you would like.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Guess not. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still, he had to say something. Was she feeling hungry? She was probably hungry. She had barely touched her plate at the reception. “I can ask Mrs Brookes to prepare supper for us, if you’re feeling hungry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, that’s not necessary, thank you.” Yet another courteous reply. Swell. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was feeling uncomfortable now. Not nervous, no never that. Lord knows this wasn’t his first time getting a woman into bed. Still, he was struggling to put himself at ease. Some awkward tension should be expected on one’s wedding night, but not like this. He never felt this way around people. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then again, his wife wasn’t like most people. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I like your dress.” He cleared his throat before gesturing to the gown in question. “It suits you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was true. The ivory lace provided a beautiful contrast to her dark complexion. The cut was no doubt the latest trend, with rows of fabric falling delicately from just under her bust. It was a beautiful dress, worn by an even more beautiful bride. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her fingers ran across the lace, tracing the floral motifs that ran along the skirt. Something told him that she was not used to being on the receiving end of such a compliment. “Thank you, your mother picked it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was standing so close. The subtle scent of soap and lilies filled the air. There was barely a few paces between them. It was too easy to reach out and place finger under her chin as he lifted her head up to look at him. A gesture all too reminiscent of that night in the study. The very gesture that got them into this mess. A night that had plagued his dreams ever since.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was time to cut to the chase. His wife seemed the type to appreciate frankness when it came to such matters. “We don’t really want to be thinking about my mother during this next part, do we?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had half been expecting some snappy retort or snide remark by now. If he was being completely candid, he had been hoping forone. A return to normalcy. Their familiar to and fro. There he was, goading her, as usual, and waiting for her to rise up and take the bait. Any second she would snap out of it, push him away and call him some expertly crafted insult. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But nothing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She just stood there. Not saying a word. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It just didn’t make sense</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Had her frustration not ebbed at all in the last fortnight? Was this her plan? To give him the silent treatment for the rest of their lives?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except, he had seen Kate angry before. More than once. She hadn’t been quiet then. Sure, she had silently fumed at times but not like this. Far from it, she had been more than willing to make her feelings known. She was refreshingly forthcoming, never reluctant to speak her mind. So why couldn’t she now? He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that was when he leaned down to kiss her. That was when she winced. And so that was when it dawned on him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because, suddenly, it did make sense. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her uncharacteristic silence those past two weeks. Her unwillingness to be alone with him. Her flinching at his slightest touch. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She wasn’t angry. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was terrified. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Good God, she thought he was about to-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He dropped his hand immediately, taking a step back from her for good measure. The best course of action was to put as much distance between them as possible. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to do this.” The words had already begun to leave his mouth before he had time to truly register them. And yet he meant them all the same. By the look on her face, however, Kate would need more convincing. So he would have to persist. “Look at me. I cannot force you to do anything that you don’t want to do.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But she didn’t move, still frozen in place. She kept her eyes glued to the floor as she spoke, refusing to look at him. “I think you will find that statement to be factually unsound.” Then suddenly, her tone hardened, as if the fight had finally come back to her. Even if it was just for a moment. “What with it being your legal right to do so.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The implication was clear. They both knew what she was alluding to. He had heard the stories, of course. Of husbands who merely took what they wanted, with no regards given to the woman’s thoughts or wellbeing, no matter the consequences.Poor wives forced to lie there and endure their husband’s attention, praying for it to be over quickly. They were ghastly stories. Unfathomable. The kind that he could not think of for too long without feeling sick to his stomach. That was when it struck him that she probably grew up hearing the exact same tales. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">God, no wonder she was terrified. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Somehow the thought of that managed to sicken him more. He cleared his throat before correcting himself. “Well then, let me rephrase. I will not force you to.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Whatever preparations she had made in her head, this scenario clearly was not one of them. In a rare occurrence, she was at a loss for words. “It is our wedding night people expect us to-“ She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “We have to-“ That argument clearly didn’t sit well with her either. Finally she was able to speak again. “People will know.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was right of course. Even if no-one was going to stand in the room and witness their consummation, people would still want to see evidence. There was no getting around that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Unless. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her breath hitched as he stepped towards her once more. His speed had probably startled her. Perhaps she even feared that he was going back on his word. He tried not to think about it as he reached up to pull one of the pins from her well-coiffured hair. Her hand reached up to grab the lock of black hair that had now come loose. Reflexively, she tucked it back behind her ear. “What are you doing?” She asked, watching him as he walked towards the bed on the backmost wall. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he paid her no heed, his focus turned to the accessory in his hand. It was a dainty little trinket, fashioned from sterling silver and adorned with crystals resembling the shape of a flower. Simple. Elegant. Expensive. Another gift from his mother, he suspected. But that wasn’t what interested him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No what he was looking at was the sharp point that glistened in the light. Tentatively, he pressed the spike against the tip of his left index finger. It would do the trick. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Walking over to the bed, he pulled back the pure white sheets. Kate let out a faint gasp behind him. Finally, he held his left hand over the bed and pricked his finger as hard as he could. Sure enough, the pinprick pierced his skin. He only slightly winced. Slightly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now, it had been over a decade since he had lain with a maiden. Not since he had been a maiden himself. So his memory was a tad hazy. Still, he was sure a couple drops of blood would suffice. It was not as if he had any anatomists under his employ. Blood was blood. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once it was done, he handed the hairpin back to her. Not like he had any further use for it. “There, now if anyone asks, they’ll fill in the blanks themselves.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not that anyone would ask. He was Anthony Bridgerton, biggest rake in all of London. Who would ever think that a beautiful young woman could leave his quarters with her virtue still intact?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Least of all Kate, who could only stand there as she looked down at the ornament rest on her palm, utterly dumbfounded by this strange turn of events. “You shouldn’t have done that.” True, he shouldn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to mind. A small price to pay for his immortal soul. “I need you to know that I would never share your bed unless you asked me to.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For however many days he had left on this earth, he wanted to be able to still look at himself in the mirror. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She struggled to bring herself to speak. From the sound of her voice, it was easy to tell that she had been fighting back tears. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Whether they were out of fear or gratitude, he did not know. “How else am I to give you a child?” Was all she managed to whisper. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She raised yet another fair point. As far as modern medicine was concerned, there was still only one way to make a baby. But if she was not ready yet, then it was as simple as that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I will not bring a child into this world in such an abhorrent manner.” The very thought of it made him sick to his stomach. “I could not live with myself. I can’t. I won’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Part of her wanted to believe him, he could see that. But doing so would go against everything she had ever been told in her 21 years of life thus far. As soon as they could speak, young girls would learn what their wifely duties would one day entail. Most of all that of childbearing. “But your heir-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had to cut her off. “We’re both young. We’re both in good health. We have plenty of time for that.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a half-truth. She had all the time in the world. He, on the other hand, did not. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. He would never stoop so low as to use his own mortality to force her into bedding him. His parents had raised him to be better than that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She remained quiet for what felt like an age, one last question still ruminating in her mind. Eventually, she spoke up. “And if I never want to?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The thought had already crossed his mind. Of course it had. She had yet to give any indication that she would ever change her mind on the subject. It very well could be that she never wished to lie with a man. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At least not with him, anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As much as her apparent rejection might have pained him, he did not let it show. That was his problem, not hers. Besides, there was an obvious solution. “I have three brothers. One is bound to have a son.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The cycle of first sons born to first sons had to end eventually. So why not let it end with him? Not like he was going to live to see it either way. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was not long for this world. Anthony knew that, he had always known that. Maybe she would take some comfort in knowing that her suffering would be brief? In only a matter of years, she would be free. Until then, he could try to protect her from further harm. Even from him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He would never be half the man his father was, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t at least try. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was his wife now. She deserved someone who tried. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know what you must think of me. You have made your feelings very clear. I cannot blame you for not being able to trust a man you hardly know.” The absurdity of the situation almost made him laugh. “We are still strangers to one another, after all.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">First impressions mattered. And their’s had been anything but good. The word appalling sprang to mind. Not that either of them were entirely blameless in the matter. It was what it was. There was no getting past that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have no reason to believe a word that comes out my mouth. I know that I am not the husband you wanted. But that does not mean that I will not be good to you.” She didn’t interrupt him, so he took that as her cue to continue. “I swear to you, on my father’s grave, I will never lay hand on you. I mean it, for as long as I live.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kate did not speak for the longest time. Her arms were still crossed in front of her chest, almost as if she was bracing herself. Finally, she asked the question that must have been pressing on her mind for quite some time. “Why are you doing this?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a valid question that she had asked him. Yet it still took him by surprise. So much so that he could not help but tell her the truth. “Because you have had no say in the matter thus far. And as hard as it may be for you to believe, the last thing I would want to do is to cause you further suffering. The least I can do is let it be your choice.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t know if that was what she had wanted to hear. Or if she even believed him. From the pensive expression on her face, it did not seem like Kate knew that answer to that question either. “I see.” She mused in a non-committal tone. Then, surprisingly, she looked up at him, staring with those sad eyes of hers. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not that she needed to thank him. He was only trying to do what his father would have done. Not that his father would have ever wound up in this position in the first place. “You are my wife, I made an oath before God that I would keep you safe. So that is what I intend to do.” A good man honoured his vows. A decent man would at least try to. Anthony was not sure if he could ever be either. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He needed to leave. He needed to get some air and come back to his senses. “I shall have the staff prepare the guest room for you. When your other belongings arrive, I shall have them placed there as well.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I truly am sorry, Miss-.” For a moment there, he had forgotten who he was speaking to. Of the ring on her finger. Of the identical band that sat on his own. Kate Sheffield, his Kate, was no more. He would never see her again. The thought almost saddened him. “My lady.” He corrected. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But his wife clearly did not agree with that title. “Kate.” She tried to shrug the correction off, looking almost sheepish as she did. “We are married, after all, that must put us on a first name basis.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In another surprising turn of events, she spoke once more. Perhaps, finally understanding that she was not the only one trapped in this predicament. “And I know. I am too.” She even cracked him the tiniest of consolatory smiles as she said it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t much. If he had blinked he probably would have missed it. Yet he was thankful for it all the same. It was the first real smile he had seen from her since that day by the Serpentine. Tiny and warm and real. Given the circumstances, he was willing to take her smiles wherever he could get them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because he had a feeling that they would be a rare sight indeed. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can also come find me on tumblr @thesadieb</p></blockquote></div></div>
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